[gathering Inspiration for an upcoming shoot...]
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept ... Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. (...) Musing upon the king my brother's wreck And on the king my father's death before him. (...) Gaily, when invited, beating obedient To controlling hands I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order?
* note : evolution of the masculine persona
